


The Bad Guy

by MaladaptiveNinjaReturns



Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Plot, Action/Adventure, Adventure & Romance, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Demi-God, Dom/sub Undertones, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fingerfucking, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Innuendo, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Original Character(s), Plot, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Sexy Times, Smut, Sub Bucky Barnes, Superhuman, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, botTom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:22:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22620124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaladaptiveNinjaReturns/pseuds/MaladaptiveNinjaReturns
Summary: It's a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn't the same place after all.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Kudos: 49





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There was a prompt on tumblr which I used to write this. Now, I don't know if this develops further or not. Would depend on the kind of attention this piece gets.

“Get the fuck outta my face, you asshole!”

The anger rushed through the burning veins to press on the car horn for as long as that bald guy could; or till other vehicles standing there impatiently started cussing at the boomer to hold it together. To add fuel to the fire, a flock of pigeons made sure it got to do its business right in the middle of newly washed windshields. A woman stood by the crossing, watching everything unfold through her bloodshot eyes as she smoked the scene away in broad daylight while a stray dog peed at the lamp post she supported herself on. A man walked by, catcalling the same woman with the kind of smile you do not want to witness; but when you do, it is difficult to remove from your brain. “Slut,” the man spewed when he did not get anything for his manly advances. “Boo-hoo,” uttered the woman with pure disinterest, going back to looking at the woman standing across the road, trying to balance her grocery bags in her arms while deciding the right moment to cross the road.

Ah, yes. It was just another day in New York City.

It did not feel normal till the exhaust fumes filled up your lungs when you stepped out into this articulate maze of a city to go about your day, just like anyone else. That rusty smell of iron and concrete along with a splash of dust in the alleys, the stench of piss in those missed corners in the back alleys and parks, the howls and so-called greetings by the men at every woman passing by that caught their eye.

_ Some things never change _ . That’s what Bucky lamented this morning, feeling himself caught off guard for a split second as two women walked by with a knowing smile just for his blue eyes.  _ Never indeed. _

So, he still had it, didn’t he? Feeling like the same Brooklyn boy before the war, catching secretive gazes and moans of all eyes alike, greeting the elderly, petting a dog and stroking a cat as he felt a skip in his step. It was so good to be outside.

Two weeks. Two weeks since he had come back from Wakanda, deciding to join Steve, Sam and Stark in whatever little shenanigans they had running at the compound in the city outskirts; saving the world and all that. It had been a good start since the whole Hydra and Snap events. He had settled pretty well with the rest of the Avengers. Turned out it isn’t that hard to live with people who are just the same amount of weird as him. But the relief came from the fact that he wasn’t the only ex-assassin in the house. That redhead was super rad.  _ I should maybe ask her out if she and Steve aren’t a thing already…though I doubt that. _

But just because he had come home did not mean he forgot about the previous one. He would still get occasional memes in his inbox from Shuri and he would try to use them- what he thought- the right way, peppering them into conversations as much as possible. 

_ I wish Shuri was here _ , Bucky sighed as he looked at the Times Square announcement for the Young Leaders Summit happening this weekend, smiling to himself in gratitude for that young scientist making him well enough to enjoy the bustling crowds again.

The walk through this massive city was no joke. But the Winter Soldier took his sweet time to watch the life of the loudest and the quietest corners before he decided where he wanted to get his coffee from.

Just by the corner of the University was a little shop with the cosiest ambience- everything furnished in wood, old advertisements for wall decorations and some good old jazz music playing on the vinyl satiated his soul just the right amount.

“Coffee and uh…eggs and bacon, please,” he requested with a slight smile as he settled on the stool, trying to ignore the snickers and giggles coming from the booth behind him.

“Oh my gosh, he’s so hot,” his sensitive ears caught, forcing him to clear his throat and grab the newspaper kept on the counter.

“So fuckable,” another whisper came.  _ Okay, some things have changed _ , he shuddered, gladly turning his attention to the police sirens in the distance instead of having to hear what a couple of strangers had to say about him.

“I wonder if he goes dow-“

A crash and a peal of horrendous feminine laughter drowned out everything else, breaking open the can of fight or flight instincts- neither of them containing the ‘ _ go back home, its none of your business _ ’ choice.

Stepping out, Bucky was greeted with one end of the street bustling with cars and people getting out of them to witness a woman stand over one with a bag swinging in the air as if to mock whoever who was standing opposite her. Bucky could not get a clear view thanks to the tree line in his view.

“I said put that down,” a commanding voice said out loud.  _ Wait a second… _

“Good Lord! Would you relax!” the woman called out, her back still to Bucky. By the casual pose, he could tell she was not scared of whoever was standing in front of her. “It’s just a smoke grenade in one hand the most expensive painting in New York in another. Also, the shittiest,” she shrugged before taking the piece out of the bag and forcing a gasp out of everyone, “I mean, who decided to pay a hundred mil for this stupid looking square drawn over a circle?”

Bucky moved along the tree line, right where her blind spot was, reading the scene to realise she was some idiot out to cause chaos in the streets.  _ I guess the police have it cover-are you kidding me?! _

“As much as I would love to agree with you,” a very tired Steve announced, his shield resting on his arm, “I’d rather make sure Tony gets this back in one piece.”

“Well, he can pay my student loans and I’ll draw him a better one,” you negotiated, almost making Steve laugh.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s a good one. Now come on. I don’t want you to get hurt. Give that ba-“

“Why not?” You tilted your head at him, making the Captain pause. Bucky stood behind an SUV, furrowing his brows at Steve and the woman.

“Wh-“ Steve was left with his lips in a confused pout, not really understanding the question while the summer sun made that soft blonde glow like a truly lost boy in the jungle.

“Why  _ wouldn’t  _ you want to hurt me?”

Bucky could swear by that colour of hurting emotion in her voice that she was looking at Steve as if he had betrayed her.  _ Holy cow, she’s good. But then again, it’s Stevie. _

“I..uh-“

“It’s okay. You have my consent. We should keep a safe word though.”

“O…kay I think that’s-“

“How about…Shield?”

Bucky nearly gave up his position with the involuntary snicker that left the back of his throat. Nonetheless, he had a perfect view of watching his best friend choke on embarrassment till he was red.

“’ Cause, you know, it’s safer to use protection.”

Steve was lucky. Really lucky the first time for having the street evacuated so as not to face the public embarrassment of being broken by a woman in a leather jacket and black jeans. That’s it. No weapons. He turned lucky the second time when an explosion in the art gallery behind him turned all the attention away from this weird one standing on top of a car and flirting with Captain America.

But Bucky was not going to let Steve forget this. Ever.

“Nat, what was that?” He called into his comms.

“Aw! Come on! I was just starting to get to know you!” She groaned. “Okay, I won’t burn this trash and we go on a date. What say?”

“We’re done here,” Steve declared before turning towards the three policemen standing behind him for aid, looking at him for further instructions, “cuff her up.”

Bucky moved next to the police car, taking the spare windbreaker resting on the front seat to walk towards the woman without giving away his identity. Not that there was much to give there.

“SO IS THAT A YES ON THE DATE?” she shouted in Steve’s direction while the cops cuffed her up. One of the policemen was quick to figure out the man doing the murder walk in their direction was not a part of the team.

“Hey, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?“

Bucky tried to raise his hands to signal him to keep it quiet but something else was already catching his attention. That something being Steve body hurled out of the glass building like a rag doll.

It was a split-second reaction of him catching the arms of the cuffed-up woman. “Hey! You’re not going-“he broke as the face turned towards him, that weight in his voice slowly dissolving in those angry eyes- “anywhere.”

.

You had your share of bad luck. Who didn’t? It was New York fucking City. The whole place was a mess. So, it was a given that today was going to be just like any other day. Because who gets to rob an art studio and have their crush come and personally arrest them only to be called off by some other douchebag robbing the same place.

Now, it would have been great had things just halted there. But as fate would have it, embarrassment hit right when you got cuffed, watching the man of your fantasies being thrown out of glass and landing on the pavement with a groan.

_ No one hurts him but me _ , you growled, already trying to make your way towards Steve before a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your arms to stop and turn your around. “Hey! You’re not going-“

_ Oh, now what _ ! You turned around to lock eyes with deep ocean eyes turning fifty shades lighter. “-anywhere.”

You did not know where that jawline came from but if he hadn’t been so beautiful you swore you would have punched the lights out of him right there and then.

_ Who is he _ , a part of you was purring.

Gunfire sounded behind you, making you break out this ten-second bliss to turn back to Steve hiding behind his shield from…was that a sniper you just saw on the roof?

Trying to walk towards Steve again, you were once again stopped by that blue-eyed guy.

“Let me go,” you declared, “he’s in trouble.”

Bucky scoffed. “That’s Captain America, doll. I think he can handle himself.”

You scrunched your nose at him, making him wonder it was Steve he was talking about. “ _ Doll? _ What century are you from?”

Bucky stopped short of saying something.  _ Let’s just not go there, darlin’ _ .

“Let me go, he  _ clearly  _ needs help.”

“From a  _ thief _ ?”

“She tried to threaten a crowd yesterday,” one of the officers spoke, earning a death glare from you.

“And I am threatening to kill you right now if you don’t let me go,” you announced ever so softly to the officer, who walked backwards with every step you took in his direction, his hand resting on his gun, ready to take it out as soon as you were to become a legit threat.

“Lady, I am telling you to calm down,” he declared, his friends backing him up.

“Okay, no need to get-“

Bucky’s words were drowned by another explosion and before anyone could make sense of the situation, you were already breaking out of the handcuffs with one good yank, running straight towards the explosion, jumping over the cars to land on the concrete grounds of the studio.

“Uh…this is on the new guy,” the officer stressed, pointing at Bucky. Bucky looked at him with judgmental eyes before running behind you, trying to catch up as you disappeared behind the smoke, landing on the ground from the cars just in time to miss a screaming man that came flying in his direction; or rather, he missed a man that was thrown in his direction.

“What in the-“ Bucky walked into the smoke cautiously to hear the impact of fists made with ribs and bodies being thrown into walls and grunts coming from something wild trying to fight those men in tactical vests.

The chopper above cleared the smoke in time- thanks Natasha- for the Winter Soldier to witness you blocking an attack on Steve before crushing the attacker’s wrist and knocking him unconscious with your elbow right in his face.

“You okay, Cap?”

“They’re not with you?”

“Wha-Who? These Chads and Hunters? Not even if I was being paid for it, no.”

Steve apologised for the quick judgment, looking around at the men lying on the ground groaning in pain. “You know you’ll still be arrested for the theft,” Steve stated with heavy breaths, trying to wipe off the blood from his lips.

“Eh,” you shrugged, looking in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll live.”

For a second Bucky lost all sense of direction as you walked towards him, your eyes stuck on his. And was that blood on your cheek?  _ Were you really hurt? How does someone look just as…pretty when half their face has been smashed? _ Everything ran in his mind like a freight train- which came to a deafening halt right what you stopped in front of him, drawing your hands up, palms out.

“Okay, now you can cuff me.”

Steve was a bit confused by the interaction while he stood outside this bizarre bubble between his best friend and this crazy woman who apparently had the hots for him. What was more surprising was watching Bucky lose all that made him ‘Bucky’ and stand there like a mute fool while you waited for him to do something with your hands.

“Oi!” you tried to snap the man out of whatever daydream you thought he was running through, “we going or what?”

Bucky never turned his gaze away from your y/e/c eyes as he tried to find the zip ties that he had on him, taking them out and securing your wrists in them, not bothering with the judgy brow Steve was throwing at him right this moment. He could deal with that later.

“Oooh,” you cooed at Bucky as he turned you by your arm towards the police cars waiting for you, “looks like someone is always ready for some action. I like that.”

Bucky was about to open his mouth to say something cocky back when he felt you push him back to grab the knife and the hand holding it, twist and break it before kicking the tactical vest guy in his knees. “Stay down, punk,” you commanded. And at that very moment, one more person in the universe started believing in something called ‘the one’.

.

“Why did you steal the painting?”

“Sweety, can we do this at the station. I’m tired and I could really use a quiet ride.”

Bucky licked his lips as he walked you back, not really content with the answer. You knew it too. It was hard to miss when Bucky’s hands on your arm changed the intensity of the hold. Not to mention the walk back was getting awkward the more distance was covered towards those pea-brained cops.

“…that painting could sell for millions online, ruin the name of this shady studio and win me a date with Cap.”

Stopping right next to the car, you turned and smirked at him, making Bucky wonder about this strange feeling in his stomach. “That’s all you get, pretty boy.” With those last words, you got inside the car, the cops driving you away as Bucky stood there alone for a few moments, replaying all of them back and questioning what exactly he had done today to have led him to this.

Just as the car disappeared from the view, Steve came to stand next to him, looking in the same direction.

“So, zip ties, huh.”

“So, a pretty stalker, huh.”

“She’s the bad guy, Buck.”

Bucky was still looking far out with this little last hope of you coming back. “…really?”

.

“First she impersonates an ambassador’s daughter to get access to the military secrets of three countries, then she crashes two military drones, and when that wasn’t enough thrill for her she comes after me!”

Pepper closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “It was a painting, Tony.”

“Well, today it was!” He stated matter-of-factly. “Tomorrow she’s going to try and steal one of my cars. Or maybe even Steve.”

Steve- who had an icepack pressed to his swollen cheek- rolled his eyes.

“Oh, definitely Steve,” Natasha agreed before passing a smirk at an irritated Rogers.

“It’s not funny,” Steve muttered.

“She said something about the Studio being shady.”

All eyes turned on Bucky. The unwelcome chill down his spine told him he was being questioned quietly till he could come up with something more.

“Tony, you said this painting was shipped yesterday.”

Tony nodded. “It was supposed to be delivered here today.” He turned and looked at the canvas covered in brown paper standing in the corner, waiting to be attended to.

“Could she have been after the studio?”

“Wow, he’s really not stopping today, is he?” Tony uttered to Steve.

“I’m standing right here.”

“Why would she go after the studio?” Pepper questioned. “What are they, some drug dealers or traffickers?”

Everyone stared at each other in silence for a second before Tony called Friday to run diagnostics on the painting and give him everything.

Within five seconds, the results were up.

“There’re traces of unsanctioned medical drugs along the outer frame. I have also found a microdrive that contains in total seventy-five identities. On running a deeper search through the internet, I have found these seventy-five identities belong to the girls that have been missing for the past one year from the middle eastern countries. All these girls have a codename next to them. Would you like me to run a further search on this, sir?”

Silence.

“Yeah, you do that.”

Tony watched in contemplative silence as Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the call.

“How do we know she’s not with the bad guys who have these girls?”

“We can always send Steve in to question her,” Pepper suggested.

“You too Pepper?” Steve felt betrayed by the one person in the room he thought was not going to get in on this. “And I don’t think I’ll be of much help. She never talks sense around me.”

Natasha chuckled, pouring herself some whiskey from Tony’s bar. “That’s true.”

“And Nat’s not going to talk to her because the last time they were in the same room she tried to kill her dog.”

“You had a dog?” Tony gasped. “When?”

“I just pushed him away a little hard from the fighting…with my leg. And it was Y/N’s dog,” Natasha stressed.

Y/N. Bucky ran that name inside his head again and again till it settled like a layer of his own skin on him.

“That’s called a kick,” Steve chimed in blankly.

“That’s definitely a kick,” Tony added, narrowing his eyes at the Black Widow, earning an eye roll.

“I can talk to her,” Bucky volunteered, “she doesn’t know I’m with you guys. She thinks I’m a civilian. I could get in her good books and find out what she knows.”

A brief moment was taken to put some thought into it. “I like that idea,” Natasha finally spoke. “If she’s the bad guy then we can put a stop to whatever she’s up to.”

“If she’s not…” Bucky began.

“Then Cap can finally go out with her without having to think of the greater good,” she concluded with a smug grin.

So, it was settled. Bucky was going undercover to find out the truth. Quite possibly the easiest mission of his life. But if it was this easy, then why was his heart bubbling with this strange sensation? Maybe because it was his first mission after so long. Maybe it was something he was yet to discover.


	2. The Fakeout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna be running my metaphorical fingers all up and down Bucky's chest to watch him shiver and groan under the touch of the story I write him. MuhahahahahHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!

“You can do it. You. Can. Do. It. You’re the man. You’re the  _ freaking  _ man. Yes.  _ Yes _ . You got it. You  _ absolutely  _ got it.”

“You okay, man?” Bucky had to ask.

“You absolutely  _ don’t  _ got it. I can’t do it, man. I’m outta here.”

Bucky grabbed Scott’s arm before that guy could rush back to the SUV they had come in. As much as he wanted to kick this sweaty ex-thief out of here, he knew the plan wasn’t going to work in Scott’s absence. He needed a guy to make him seem legit. At least that’s what Natasha had told him.

“Calm down,” Bucky reassured the man who was sweating tennis balls by now, “you just need to show the ID. Natasha has taken care of the rest and I would be doing the talking. Okay?”

Scott was half-listening by the time Bucky had finished. “Huh? Yeah! Yeah! Cool cool cool cool cool cool cool!”

Bucky could empathise on some level with Scott. After all, it was weird for an ex-con to visit a prison as a fake lawyer while trying to get a felon out of there under the noses of the authority. 

The plan was pretty simple. Arrange a meeting with that woman whom Bucky had met earlier, gain her trust, get her out of jail under the pretence of getting her to help with an unsolved case and find out the location and identity of the people behind the theft of Tony’s precious painting.

_ Simple _ .

Then why was Bucky’s back feeling so wet whenever a humid wind blew at the opening of every rusty door in the maximum-security prison?

The room was covered in cameras in all corners. To Bucky’s satisfaction, Natasha already told him and Scott they did not record any conversations for lawyer-client confidentiality- so any conversation that was about to happen was going to stay between these three. The musty smell of the room was somehow familiar to both of them, bringing mixed feelings to the surface- to which they barely had time to react when a figure in orange jumpsuit walked in, forcing all their attention on it.

“Hey boys!” You greeted the party, already recognising Bucky from the rendezvous you two had a few days ago. “Ay!! You’re that beat cop no one listened to that day!”

Bucky did not know how to react to that. He was not really expecting their interaction to go this way. Scott, on the other hand, was a little relieved to have your attention glued on anyone but him.

“Oh, right! I told you we’d be having the conversation after I get processed,” you added with a tone of realisation, “Wow, I didn’t know you were  _ so  _ into that robbery!”

You dragged the chair out with your leg and sat on it, legs spread wide- keeping comfort over societal mannerisms. Resting your cuffed hands on the table you gave a knowing smirk to Bucky, who was trying to figure out what exactly was going on behind that viciously delicious smile. “Or is it something else that is intriguing you?” You raised a brow. "Did I use that right?  _ Intriguing  _ you? Something that you're intrigued  _ by _ ?"

"That sounds better," Scott blurted out, regretting it the very second because now your suspicion-filled eyes were all for him.

"You…" you narrowed your eyes at Scott, making the man sit straight in his chair.

"He's my lawyer," Bucky was quick to dive in, "I mean, he's the lawyer we-I... he is interested in represen...He’s a lawyer." For the first time in his life, Bucky was glad Scott and Sam had forced him to watch Law and Order.

“...ok...kay.”

"Scott. Scott Lang," he introduced himself, bringing his hand forward for a shake.

“You have the eyes of a thief,” you stated while Scott’s hand was still in the air, making the poor man slowly take it back while his pale face looked at Bucky with an ‘I told you so’ expression. “No wonder you’re a lawyer.”

Next moment, you slumped into the chair, looking a little offended at something Bucky did. Or so he thought. “Did I hurt you?”

Bucky blinked at you before his brain smacked his accelerating heart to give something instead of just sitting there. “I’m sorry?”

“Did I hurt you the last time we met? I get that I have some kinda...powers but I don’t just throw them around. We could have had a conversation over some prison coffee. You didn’t have to bring your friend here.”

It took three seconds at minimum for Bucky’s brows to shoot up and his lips to crack wide in a smile. “W-what? No! He’s not here for me. He’s here for you. We’re getting you out of here.”

It was hard to put a word into the expression you just gave. Your eyes shifted between the two men while your open lips were shut and your face tilted a little towards the door.

“Uhhhhh-” was the only thing coming out of your mouth till your body got up from the chair and your cuffed hands pressed together towards your company- “listen, cop guy...man. I really meant it in a casual way when I said we’ll ‘talk later’. I don’t really know how much you’ve read into this. I mean, I would say ‘at least buy me dinner first’ but I am kinda scared as to where that might lead us. Good, God! Now I’m wondering what would you have done if I’d said something more like ‘hey, let’s f-”

“NO!” Bucky nearly jumped off his seat, his hands over the table trying to stop your words from coming out from a safe distance. “I’m not getting you out of here because I like you-” he stopped right when he heard himself, watching your curious eyes witness his mouth play him like a ten-cent flute- “no, I mean I like you but not in that kind of...what I  _ mean  _ to say is I know why you tried to steal that painting. I found out from my sources that these paintings are being used by this new mafia around the world supplying narcotics and codes on the trafficked girls and boys to their buyers for bids. And I was hoping you could help us catch the people behind the...painting.”

Bucky was cursing himself right and left, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks at nearly messing it up.  _ Why did she have to be this accurate? _ His inner voice mocked him before smacking him in the head and calling him a jock.

“I don’t know if you remember but I was caught by you guys while threatening the New Yorkers.”

“While you were trying to help Ste-Rogers. Captain Rogers. And no one caught you. You surrendered yourself.”

“I hate cops. I can’t work with them.”

“You won’t be working with them. You’ll be working with us. Me and a couple of my friends.”

“I don’t work for free. And before you put a price tag on my work, remember that I am inside this prison because I want to  _ stay  _ here. For now.”

“How about a date with Steve Rogers?”

“Dude, you can’t put a price on my-wait what?”

“I’ll ask him to go out with you if you catch those sons of bitches.”

Maybe it was the serenade playing from somewhere inside the prison. Or maybe it was the sun strolling in from the windows. Or maybe it was the mention of his best friend that made your pupils go wider, your fingers work over the skin on your arm, doodling some invisible hearts with a bitchface before you straightened from the table and the sound from your cuffs nearly made Scott fall off his chair.

“I don’t work with supes. They disgust me. Especially Tony Snark and his redhead sister and that C-grade Legolas. I’m out.”

“We won’t be working with them. But I can pull a few strings to get you that date. I promise. And I’m sure Steve...Rogers would be more than willing to go out with you if there is one less bad guy walking out on the streets.”

“...you better not be joking about this-”

“James Barnes.”

“James. Because if you are, I will drive a monster truck into your house, take away your pet and fuck your mother till she forgets her own name.”

“My mother’s dead,” he was quick to add while Scott gasped at the audacity of this bitch- you; you were the bitch.

“Your girlfriend, then,” you simply shrugged. Bucky’s brain straight away flashed to a two-second fantasy of you and Natasha in her room, on her bed.

“Bold of you to assume he has a girlfriend,” Scott chortled till he could see Bucky’s Winter Soldier parts staring at him with all the coldness.

.

It wasn’t in his nature to give a place to bad things inside his  _ Bucky  _ heart. It definitely wasn’t in the now peaceful Winter Soldier’s nature to peek from inside Bucky and stare with stars in his eyes at the woman coming out in her shirt and jeans topped by a leather jacket.  _ She’s bad _ , his mind kept ringing the gong,  _ real bad _ . And when that wasn’t enough, she put on those aviators to shield her eyes from the harsh noon sun, walking towards him with the strut that said she was woman enough to grab someone by the balls if need be.  _ You’ll get yourself killed by a woman, Barnes _ , his mind went off again.

“No, I won't,” he muttered out loud.

“What?” Scott asked.

“What?”

Bucky tried to ignore him, his eyes stuck on you as you came and stood by them.

“Keys,” you ordered, watching Bucky fish his pockets without breaking eye contact and handing the keys of the Land Rover to you. “Let’s go.”

Scott grabbed Bucky by the arm to pull him closer. “Dude! She has the keys!”

“...okay? Why are we whispering?”

“Wh-What are we gonna do if she tries to do something...evil!”

“Like what?”

“Like I don’t know, throw us off a cliff! Or drive us into a wall. Or worse, go over the speed limit in the city!!”

“Relax! I’m here,” Bucky reassured before opening the door to the back seat of the car for him. “I got you.”

Hopping in and sitting next to you, he noticed for the first time how you smelled like a pleasant mixture of spring and citrus.

“What cologne is that?” you called out from nowhere while turning on the engine, turning to look at Bucky.

“Uhhh….it’s an aftershave. For men.” He nodded, cursing himself instantly for adding that last bit.  _ Of course, it’s for men, you twat! _

“Smells nice,” you complimented before turning out of the parking spot.

“I’m glad you’re on board with this,” Bucky stated, trying to undo the mess he made a few seconds ago, “I wasn’t trying to overstep when I-we decided to get you to help us out.”

You chuckled, shifting gear.

“Oh, sweetheart! One, I loved this isn’t an automatic. Those are for weak testicled-babies. And two, you clearly misinterpreted me in there. When I said I was not expecting you to bail me outta jail for a date, I wasn’t grossed out by it, darling. I liked it.” You leaned a little closer to Bucky- having a glorious view of his pupils go wide like oceans with endless pits- to end him with one last whisper and wink. “In a very  _ kinky  _ way.”

And just as the car swerved out to the wide road, Scott could feel the air leave his lungs. “What have we done,” he whispered to himself, questioning all that was about to come.


	3. The Fallen Soldier

The mansion up the hill overlooking those city lights was packed with people in their expensive swimwear right and left. Butts were swinging to loud beats, crystal glasses filled with alcohol and unwanted drugs clinked around the six thousand square feet of area. Skinny babes and naked dudes smoked and snorted by the pool while some made out in the pool, around the tennis court upstairs in the balcony; basically any place they could find. Guards stood by the openings in the front and back- well, definitely away from the booze-redden crowd running horny for those black-clad abs and standing there in silence and sharp observation- making sure no intruders or unwanted objects entered the place.

People coming in and wobbling out threw greetings at a slick-looking man sitting on the rooftop making some colourful drinks with the drugs in a sophisticated palette kept on a clear glass coffee table right next to where the multiple  _ not!y/h/c _ girls- five to be specific- sat surrounding him. None of these ladies looked above twenty-five. But everyone looked like they were all up over that golden-haired broad jaw guy- who could have a name like Hunter- just for the pills.

“Looky here chicks,” his deep voice with a crustiness to it announced with the cocktail glasses raised for his company to take, “this is how you get to feel a new high. One of these and you will have the night of your life. Uh...scratch that, the second-best night of your life because later on, I’m going to fuck each one of you raw.”

The women hooted while forcing to keep those smiles when he looked away, clearly uncomfortable with that man. One of them was trying her best not to sneeze from all that heavy cologne he was wearing.

“How long do we have to do this Katie? I better be paid well for this,” the  _ not!y/h/c  _ sitting at the other end whispered to her girlfriend.

“I don’t know Samantha,” Katie muttered through her teeth that were all smiles for the man, “just keep going till he tires himself out.”

“Ugh, I have to submit my thesis tomorrow. I hate this guy! Fucking him was not a part of our deal. I wanna go home before I kill this man!” she grunted to her teeth before doing a one-eighty on her expression when he raised his glass at her and winked with his tongue out and wiggling. Samantha wanted to cry but she kept telling herself she was doing it for her tuition fee.

Downstairs, in the driveway, a woman dressed in a golden shimmy dress under a chinchilla fur overcoat and Impera Louboutin walked towards the entrance. Her red acrylic nails played with her hair while the other handheld an LV bag. Those cat-like movements stopped only when the bodyguards stopped her at the door. “Identification,” the grey-eyed Caucasian questioned.

This  _ not!y/h/c  _ wore red-rimmed groupie shades tinted black even in the night. Her lips red, and so were those huge danglers that clinked whenever her head moved or even tilted. She peeked over her shades at the boys and their toys stopping her from going in. The boys saw golden lenses checking them out and waited patiently for her to say something.

Sighing, she raised her bag and gestured the men to look into it.

The boys looked at the bag and then each other. “What’s in it?”

She dropped her head back and groaned lightly. “My identification,” she answered, almost singing it like a stereotypical white teen tired of the drama surrounding her.

The boys opened the zip and raised their brows at the stuff they saw inside. Leather whip, handcuffs, feather, candles, cable ties, ropes, anal beads and strap ons.

Trying to keep a straight face, they zipped the bag back up and handed it back to her before opening the door. “He’s on the rooftop.”

The woman smirked with those wet red lips at them. While walking in with those swishing hips, she grazed that bulge in the pants of the one standing to her right, making him flinch before going back to his position- but not without a smile on that seemingly uncrackable face.

The woman’s smile disappeared the moment she entered the room, her lips turning into the hues of disgust till she found a glass tumbler filled with scotch and dunked her hand in it till she was sure she had got everything off. Wiping it clean with a napkin, she moved through the crowd of stoned youngsters roaming about half-naked, dancing to Sasha Sloan’s ‘At Least I Look Cool’. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey from next to two girls making out in the kitchen, she walked out towards the poolside, howling like a wolf to blend in. Within no time, everyone else there howled like her, getting more into the spirit.

“Haha..oh you all are such fucked up dolts,” she muttered under her breath, dancing her way to the stairs leading to the rooftop.

The wind was adding to the pep in her steps, her skin loving the cold waves over all that makeup. There were two guards standing as security at two ends, looking down at the party. Rest of the crowd was those college girls dressed as elite strippers trying to hog the man’s attention as much as they. All except Katie.

“Ooh, what do we have here,” the man whistled at the woman entering the scene with the sexy saunter.

“Hi Hunter,” she sang in a low, almost sweet poison laden voice, keeping the bag down on the coffee table, “I’m your birthday present. From your best bud.”

The fur coat was dropped down to reveal the gold sequin dress held tight around her with only two thin straps going around her shoulder. All eyes went to the smooth hairless baby-like skin shining under those dim lights around them. Tattoos covered the arms and the back- intricate works inked in black, some phrases etched in Kanji on one arm while some not so popular gangster signs on the other. The back seemed to carry the face of some strange creatures along with Kanji scripting the borders.

The shades were thrown away to reveal her face to Hunter, who was already feeling the tightness in his pants. “So, Hunter-” she opened the bag to take out the rope, making that bad boy’s pupil dilate in excitement- “what’s it gonna be. Full public display or a private show?”

“Everybody out!” He was already shouting, flailing hands at security to walk away. “What the fuck you lookin’ at,” he yelled at the girls, making them jump and scrammed.

“Oh thank God,” Katie said under her breath.

“You’re welcome,” the woman threw in her direction, making Katie feel her lungs tighten at the suggestive wink she got from her before she ran down the stairs.

Hunter jumped up and down the couch in anticipation, grunting at the woman. “Come on, you crazy bitch. Come to daddy.”

The women smirked at Hunter, walking across the table to close the distance between the two of them, opening the cork to the whiskey with her teeth and spitting it away somewhere in the dark. “Open your mouth,” she ordered.

A slap echoed through the air when he didn’t obey. His grunts of pleasure followed next and before you know it, he was looking up at her like a needy puppy. The whiskey went down his tongue, burning his tongue and throat till he had to shut his mouth and spill it out.

“Open up!”

And he did. Again. Once she was satisfied, she threw the bottle away. Some sort of ruckus could be heard downstairs but Hunter didn’t care. His guys could handle it.

The rope came next. Wrapped around his neck and gradually tied securely with a knot. The excitement in Hunter’s pants was already showing. The more she tightened the rope, the more he shivered with pleasure.

“You have been very naughty, Hunter. Very, very naughty.”

Hunter nodded in submission. “Yes. Oh God, yes. I have been so naughty. Punish me, you cunt. Slap the bad outta me,” he growled.

She yanked the rope towards herself, nearly making him fall on the concrete floor. “Follow me on your fours, you bad dog.”

And he did. His hands and knees were scraped by the rugged tiles underneath but he did not care. Soon both of them were at the edge, the glass railing looking down at the lit-up pool.

“Get on the other side of the glass,” she commanded.

“What?”

Even with those golden lenses that were clearly fake, she looked menacing. Without uttering another word- to not get on her bad side because she had his balls in her hands- Hunter pulled up his leg to move on the other side, right on the edge.

“Good boy,” she purred and lifted a corner of her lip. Wrapping the rope around her arm, she got out of her Louboutins, feeling a lot more relaxed than before. “Now,” she sighed while cracking the knots in her neck, “let’s get started.”

Hunter never saw her foot coming to kick him right in his gut, pushing him back, nearly making him miss his footing, his instincts grabbing at the rope within seconds while a high pitched scream left his lungs that got mistaken for another howl wave downstairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” He yelled at her. Unfortunately for him, no one downstairs could listen to his cries over the loud music reverberating throughout the house. The security was nowhere to be seen downstairs. Just a bunch of drunk bastards enjoying the booze and drugs.

“Where’s your boss?” she asked with a dead expression. No emotions reached her eyes as she held Hunter’s life in her hand her one foot resting on the glass while she watched the man cry tears of desperation.

“Where. Is. Your. Boss?”

“I ain’t telling you shi-”

Her fingers loosened the hold on the rope, making him scream and cry huge tears. “HE’S COMING TO TOWN THIS THURSDAY. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T LET ME FALL. PLEASE I’LL GIVE YOU MONEY. I’LL GIVE YOU DRUGS. DON’T LET ME FALL OH MY GOD!!!”

“How many girls did you sell in your life, Hunter?”

He shook his head, hanging onto the roop around his neck with his dear life. “No, please no,” he whimpered repeatedly to the point all you could hear were squeals. After some time they were gone too.

“How many?”

“I...I *hic* I didn’t c-count af-after three hundred. I’m sorry. Please let me go.”

“Hmm,” she twitched her jaw while wrapping the rope around her arm again, reducing the distancing between them.

Hunter seemed to find his breaths back, his face swollen with all the crying and yelling. “Was your boss gonna buy the painting that was supposed to be stolen from the gallery?”

Hunter nodded. Those damn tears still didn’t stop. But now the tears were not the only thing leaking from his body.

“Do you know what I hate more than my periods?”

He didn’t ask. He was just trying not to puke his guts out.

“I hate the scums who get rich off other’s bodies. Do you know who that includes? Hmm? You do? You.”

The punch landed on his throat and the rope was dropped. Like a theatrical representation of Adagio for Violin and Orchestra in E major by Mozart, Hunter kept falling down, his hands still flailing in the air to catch hold of something, anything while she looked at the view till she was sure he was down in the pool, splashing the water everywhere. People hurled cheers and salutes while that man tried to catch hold of his senses for his life. She turned away, picked up her shoes, her fur, and her bag, and walked towards the open fireplace to dump the latter into the fire pit. The fire ate it up like a beast hungry for more. Walking away, she jumped over the railing to land on the edge of the estate, strutting straight into the forest barefoot, not stopping till a familiar SUV was visible at the road down the hill amongst multiple high-end cars parked in front of the mansion. The lights turned on the moment she came into view. The door was unlocked for her to climb in and sit in the front on the passenger side.

A security personnel ran by the car. “Hunter’s been attacked! Some bitch threw him off the roof. Code blue! Code blue! Everybody on the grounds now!” his walkie talkie crackled as he ran towards the mansion.

“This is NOT how we’re supposed to work!”

The street lights revealed the new handsome face and those black luscious hair on the driver’s side. Those blue eyes were clearly not impressed by your work, those hands already working around the wheel to make the engine come to life and get the hell out of here.

James Buchanan Barnes rode the car out like nobody’s business in the darkness of the night with one incredible ‘bitch who killed a man from the mafia’.

“Yeah, I brought my stealth suit for nothing,” Scott called out from the back.

The smile on those red lips broadened. With a yank of the hands, the luscious curls came off- revealing them to be a wig all this time- exposing the one who carried out the information extraction.

It was you. You were the ‘bitch’.

The lenses came off too. So did the acrylics.

“I’m just getting started, my darlings,” you stated.

“You should not have gone in alone. And what was this, a disguise?” He asked, pointed at everything that was not you.

“This, my guy-” you peeled off the false nose and cheek paddings- “was my way of cheating face recognition. You should try it sometimes too, Sergeant Barnes. You could’ve really used it when you killed those important faces in New York.”

Bucky was left speechless at the reveal. “Oh sweetheart, I do my homework. Just ‘cause I’m not on the other side with those so-called heroes I won’t do my research?”

“You must’ve been quite the college student,” Scott quipped.

“Top ten of my class,” you acknowledged, doing a hi-five with him without looking.

“I have to say, Barnes, I am disappointed that I didn’t get to see the Winter Soldier. Maybe on our next mission?”

Bucky could see from the corner of his eyes your tongue licking your lips in anticipation while checking him out without any filter. He could feel his hands tighten on the steering wheel. That gaze did something to him. Every. Single. Time.

“The Winter Soldier’s dead,” he commented, “along with all the evil he did,”

“Hmm,” you pouted, looking ahead at the road, “too bad. Would’ve have loved to take him on a ride. Summer in the streets-” you clicked your tongue- “winter in the sheets.”

“...I’m gonna put my earphones on,” Scott muttered and slid into his seat, away from whatever was going on between the two of you.

Bucky adjusted himself where he sat. “Wh-ahem- what are those tattoos on your...uhh skin?”

“Oh, these?” you were easily distracted, “these are just temporary inks. This one is my favourite opening from the anime Naruto. This is the name of the guy I had a crush on from the same anime. On my back are names of all the fav characters from One Piece with what I think is their Patronus.”

Silence.

_She is a nerd_. Bucky’s inner voice whacked him in the head. _Speak for yourself mister number one fan of Captain America._

“Now back to you,” you continued, “Mr back from the dead and evil.”

_ Come, on Buck! You are a ladies man! You should be all up in her business by now. What is wrong with you?! _

“It’s okay,” your voice broke his anxious thoughts, “we won’t do anything against your will. I’m all for consent.”

You rested your cheek on the headrest while continuing to stare at him. “There is nothing sexier than having permission to do all the things you want me to do,” you declared softly.

And just like the teasing notes of the violin, the former winter soldier felt himself falling for the villain once again.


	4. Smitten Kitten

“Are you sure this is the location?”

“That’s what she texted Bucky.”

“...I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“...you…don't have a good feeling about... _ this _ mission or Y/N  _ texting  _ Bucky?”

Steve retreated his gaze from the binoculars to give Natasha a knowing look. The latter just shrugged her shoulders with the display of her innocent face. “He didn’t show you the text. He just told you the loc-esh. It’s normal to worry about it.”

Steve sighed and went back to the binoculars, looking at Bucky playing with a rock at the entrance of the warehouse before kicking it away. Steve hated the idea of Bucky wearing his favourite grey Henley shirt for a meeting with a bad guy.

“If I didn’t know him any better-” Tony’s voice crackled on the comms- “I’d say he was going on a date when he asked me if he could borrow my cologne. And if we go by our history, I really don’t know him any better.”

“Come on, guys. Cut Cap some slack,” Barton- who was screening the whole area from the top of the local water tank a couple of miles above the hill- added, “it’s not every day you see your best friends fall for the bad guys. Twice.”

A giggle and snicker eroded through the comms and Steve rolled his eyes while pushing himself into the seat. “Thanks for the input, Barton.”

“Alright, everybody shush,” Natasha interrupted the tease session, “she’s here.”

A Land Rover smoothly turned into the rundown estate to come and stop by Bucky’s Mustang. Those stooping shoulders suddenly found their rigidity and turned towards the car to welcome whoever was about to step out.

For a hot summer morning with plans to make plans to take down an entire cartel, you were dressed in a floral sundress. Brown shades covered your eyes and most of your face from that merciless sun. What they did not cover was the smile on those naked lips that had been painted the most enticing red Bucky had seen, apart from the gun you held in your dominant hand.

“Hello Sergeant,” you sang while taking patient steps in those white wedges that were in no way shoes made for a fight, “did you get my texts?”

Bucky, the soldier had already evaluated all the entries and exits, the type of gun, it’s range, the best stances if it came to playing offence or defence. Bucky the himbo from the past, though, was having a hard time concentrating on anything else but that suggestive smile and tilt of your head; the light hitting your hair perfectly while the languid breeze annoyed your strands now and then.

“Of course, that’s why I’m here, aren’t I?”

You tsked. “You know what I mean Sarge.”

Of course, he knew what you meant. He could feel his chest flutter by just the thought of those texts last night.

**You** :  _ meet me @ the warehouse on boulevard street tomorrow. We’ll come up with a plan to bust those bitches. Gimme a suitable time. _

**Bucky** :  _ Ok. How does 12 sound _ ?

**You** :  _ In this weather? Sarge, we’ll be sweating like a bunch of pigs under the sun! _

**Bucky** :  _ *typing* How about 7? am? _

**You** :  _ Do you feel like going skinny dipping tomorrow with me? _

**Bucky** :

**You** :  _ I know a really good spot a little away from here. Might end up on a road trip. _

**Bucky** :  _ *typing* I think we should concentrate on the miss- _

**You** :  _ Where do you live, btw? _

**You** :  _ *sends location* This is my place _

**Bucky** :  _ *erases everything* shouldn’t you keep your home location to yourself? _

**You** :  _ Hmm...But if I do that, how will you come over? _

**Bucky** :  _ *silence* *types* why would I want to- _

**You** :  _ It’s not every day I feel like sharing a bottle of some good stuff with someone. _

**You** :  _ It is soooo hot. I’m taking my pants off. _

_ Bucky: _

**You** _ : The top’s gone too. Phew! Just my lingerie now. _

_ *one minute later* _

**You** _ : Yeah, it’s not working. Bra is never comfy. Ever. _

**You** _ : It’s better now! The night breeze is hitting every sweat bead on the spot. _

**You** _ : Every window is open now. _

**You** _ : Hmmm...Sarge. Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking? _

**You** _ : Well, thinking isn't gonna do you any good, Bucky. _

**You** _ : Thinking about my clothes on the floor. _

**You** _ : Thinking about my skin. _

**You** _ : Thinking about how much more this wind is getting action than someone you know. _

**You** _ : Thinking about my hands roaming on my chest. _

**You** _ : And then my stomach. _

**You** _ : And then down further… _

By this time the phone was a crushed pile of junk in his hand and his cock a frustrated bulge in his boxers. Oh, the dissatisfaction of not being able to push you against a wall and grind his needy bulge against you was frustrating at best. The want to see you naked in the sheets under him while you called out his name increased with every second. Why did you have to be such a fucking tease?! A great one at that. Now he did want to dash out of the facility, steal one of Tony’s cars and drive to your home to take your by your hair and shut that pretty mouth of yours. He did think about it. But imagining you seeing him at your doorstep stopped him for some reason. Instead, he got out of his boxers, jumped on his bed and took care of that urge himself, fantasizing you, your touch, your moans, your highs with his hitting the rocks, till his legs were shivering and he had to stop himself from groaning out loud.

“I...fell asleep.”

Your tongue played with your upper lip and a tiny shudder in his pants was enough to tell him, you knew it was a lie. A lie through and through. There was a point when he started to fear that you might even know what he did after reading those messages.

"Sure, ya did," you chuckled the words through your teeth. "Anyways-" lifting your gun up casually to stroke it- "I was wondering about you last night. A lot. And there were things I did not like."

The safety clicked off and your arm turned straight to point it right at Bucky's forehead.

On the other side of the binoculars, Steve was already shouting his team to move in. Natasha was already driving forward, skidding to a stop right next to Bucky's wheels.

You could hear the commotion all around you but you were more interested in the disappointment building up on Bucky's beautiful face, looking at his pal with a hint of resentment.

"That-" you tilted your head a little in Steve's direction- "is what I don't like. You thought I wouldn't find out?"

"I told you to stay away, Steve!" Bucky yelled at him.

"Alright, this is over," Steve fumed from where he stood, "I knew we should not have trusted you."

With the right force, the gun crunched in your palms as turned towards Steve. You said nothing to the blonde. Removing your shades, you nodded at Natasha. "Hey, Nat."

"Y/N. How's Mr Fuzzy Boy."

"It's Fluffy Boy. And he still hates you. Talking about boys-" you looked around with your arms across your chest- "I thought you would have knocked some sense into them by now."

Natasha shrugged. “Not really. No.”

“She tried but we are too stubborn and our egos are bigger than our-”

“Hey, Stark,” you announced at the voice breaking out through Natasha's car. Turning to Bucky you sucked at your teeth. “I honestly thought you were doing this little team up because you wanted to work with me. Clearly that is not what this was about. You wanted to find out if I was working with the cartel, didn’t you, James Barnes?”

“Oooh, full name,” Clint cringed from his nest.

“You’re not really known for your goodness, Y/N,” Steve broke it down for you. “No offence.”

“Save it, Captain,” you spewed in his direction, “and to think I wanted to crush that face between my thighs.” Digging into your sundress’ pocket, you took out a burner cellphone and threw in his direction. “Happy hunting, you fucked up psychopaths.” You turned towards Bucky with no sign of any empathy in those y/e/c eyes. “Don’t expect anything more from me.”

The Land Rover moved out and away and with a part of Bucky’s broken heart that wanted to stop it so bad but had to do with turning to Steve and yelling out his anger at him. “You had to put your leg in the door, didn’t you. I had it handled!”

“Handled?  _ Handled _ ?!! Buck, she’s been playing you like a fiddle!”

“And you think I can be played?”

“I saw her texts for God’s sake!! Don’t tell me you’re going to defend her.”

Natasha cursed under her breath and stepped away from Steve. “Wow,” Bucky breathed in disbelief. “So just because she is horny on the phone means I am her little puppet? Is that how little you think of me, Stevie?”

“I don’t want you getting hurt, Buc-”

“I am not fourteen anymore! Neither are you! You know what, I’m out. I’m done. She’s given you something. Go use it and go punch some Nazi heads. I don’t want anything to do with this.”

And so he went away too, leaving everyone but Steve standing there to uncomfortably watch the captain look at the car.

“So…” Tony’s voice muttered over the comms, “which ice-creams should I keep ready in big dessert bowls when you guys get back home?”

.

_ It's good. Whatever happened was good. I mean, Steve and Tony got what they wanted. Y/N is no longer in the picture and...and…I don't have to interact with her...anymore. _

The ball bounced from the ceiling into Bucky's hands, going back and forth without a pause. The other hand rested under his head- the very head that was blankly staring at the ceiling, thoughts running in there like a freight train. Wait, no, scratch that. No trains. They were running more like a leopard- just running around, presenting a brooding picture on the outside while on the inside- just like that very leopard, this poor muscular soul was dying of overthinking and anxiety. The agitation was on the level of a nine-year-old sulking in his bed because his mom was not letting him play with his friend. It was reasonable that the friend was bad, could be a bad influence, had been directly or indirectly leading him on some things he hadn't thought of in a while.  _ But he had just made a frieeeennddd!! Hngh! _

_ Crack! _

The sound brought him out of the huffing trance to watch the paint and plaster crack in the ceiling.  _ Fuck! Stark's gonna be pissed. _

Bucky closed his eyes and let the hand engulfing the ball rest of his forehead.

Well, to be fair to his 'mom', Bucky was sure he was worried about what would happen if his new friend took him to the dark side again. After all the efforts and blood so many people had gone through, for one woman to undo it all. That was a genuine concern.  _ But then again, she has been more interested in Sergeant Barnes than the Winter Soldier. Except for the part where she said she wants to see him…under the…sheets? _

_ Right! What is with this woman! She speaks without a filter!! Does not care who's listening and what they'll think. I like that. I really like that. But all she wants to do is fuck me? And then what? Go back to ogling America's ass? _

A part of him nudged at those angry corners, pressing at the fact that you had been too engrossed to be angry at him to even think about Steve today. So, maybe it was not all about the ass.

Bucky turned to his side, rolling that thought along with him. The ball was moved around by his flesh index while his mind jogged with the possibility of doing something next.

Well, there was one thing he could do. It would drive Steven Grant Rogers crazy but it would be worth all the trouble he would be going through. Well, if he were to get caught he would have been caught last night when he sneaked out of the facility to go check to your place.

The distance had not been much on the bike but the New York heat hitting his face the moment he entered the city was more unwelcoming than the people living in the city. Parking the bike in an alley, he had pretty much parkoured his way over the houses to reach the building next to yours. Silent as a cat in the night looking for its prey, Bucky had planted himself on your apartment’s balcony and watched in impressive horror the modesty you lived in. Paintings made by kids were pinned all over the living room walls while a volcano sat on the coffee table- half done. An empty bottle of orange juice lay on the kitchen table while cushions were sprawled over the floor. Taking a step to his right, he was looking through the french windows into your bedroom where you slept in your queen-sized bed like a baby. All around you were oil paintings in blue and green of what looked like ocean waves in different art styles. On the bed lay your worn down laptop still running. Bending at an angle, his throat let out a muted gasp at collage with his photos on the screen, suggesting you had fallen asleep looking at his photographs. What was weird for Bucky was that his accelerated heartbeat had not found a single photo of his winter soldier avatar in there. What cooled down his burning chest was the serenity on your face. Sleeping under those thin grey sheets with a plushie of a right next to your head, Bucky almost had the urge to grin so wide. He could not believe you were the same woman who had threatened his best friend in full public view. And he knew exactly what he was going to do. Take a picture and blackmail you with it.

Looking down at his jeans to take his phone, his heart felt like he had fallen down the stairs when a pair of glowing eyes caught his. Gaining his mental footing, he breathed in the fact that it was actually a cat staring back at him from the other side of the window. White fur stood out in the dark of the night as it hissed Bucky and tried to claw at him, clearly seeing him as a threat. Sensing the feline’s uneasiness with his presence, he thought it better to leave before that little white monster woke you up. But not before he left a bunch of biscuit crumbs on the balcony tiles as a sign of peace for the little fanged beast.

Now, he wanted to go back through the front door and get face to face with that rage today- not something he had expected after last night’s scenic view of that perfect face.

Pausing movement of the ball, he picked it up in his metal hand, got himself up from the bed and slid towards the edge to put on his socks and boots only to pause and form an attack stance with his metal arm towards that svelte figure leaning by the door.

“Gonna hit me with the ball?” Natasha cocked a brow at Bucky.

Loosening his muscles at Natasha and went on to put his boots on. “Going somewhere, Grumperella?”

“Outside. Away. Somewhere I can grump in peace,” Bucky stated, getting up.

“Take this pretty lady too,” Tony announced as he walked by his room and tossed a pair of car keys at Bucky, “I don’t think you’ll improve those points by going to her place on a bike.”

Silence.

The flutter in Bucky’s heart drowned by Natasha’s words. “Don’t worry. Only Tony and I know. We’ll handle Steve. Just don’t let our image fall further,” she concluded, walking out with a smirk.

.

“Truffle, Fluffy, stop looking at the neighbour’s lunch and come eat your chicken thighs,” you announced from the kitchen. With a bandana on to keep your hair as far away from your skin, your skin itched for something colder than what the air conditioner was providing right now. This was the third time you had fiddled with your thermostat today.  _ Damn this summer! That’s it, I’m moving out of this fucked up city.  _

Fluffy’s taps came to a skidding halt at the doorway to slip towards his bowl while Truffle gracefully walked to his bowl and ate his share while keeping a paw between him and the corgi’s audible gobble and chomps, nearly pushing his face away. 

Sighing, you sat down on the seat by the kitchen table, looking at your two kids devour their lunch while you questioned the disappearance of your appetite.  _ Maybe it’s the PMS. Is it the PMS? _ You looked at the calendar over your fridge.  _ Still a week to go. Maybe it is him. That stupid fucker _ .

Your thoughts started forming around that magnificent frame of Bucky. There were not enough times you could say you had been left attracted to a bewildered face of a guy in awe of your skills. Men would mostly take that power inside you as a wrong stroke on their ego. But this one? This one just stood there looking at you as if the theme of Love Story 1970 was playing in those anime eyes while he watched in gasping admiration at something out of this world. That was the first time someone’s face had given you such warmth. Well, a stranger’s face. Don’t let my family hear it, you thought to yourself. Just then, Truffle looked up from his bowl to turn and stare at your for a solid minute before going back to his lunch.

The doorbell rang, getting you out of those dreamy thoughts- for barely a second- that were making you sweatier by the minute. Getting up and walking to the door, you kept wondering about that metal hand, those absolutely luscious lips, those surprised yet aroused eyes and oh Gods! Those shoulders. Those beautiful shoulders you wanted to bite into. Arrr!

You did not realise when you clicked the door open. But you did feel like eating your own words when that Love Story 1970 theme started playing in the background just as your eyes locked onto those beautiful oceans of blue; the abyss inside them widening just as you came into view.

Bucky forgot how to breathe. For a second you did too. You did not expect him to be standing here; not after the humiliation you put him through in front of his team/friends. And yet, here he was. At your door. Standing in front of you, the bad guy, moving his hair back with his hand, revealing the redness of those kissable cheeks that had been struggling to keep the blood inside the veins the whole elevator ride to your floor. The rubbing of his hand fingers against his palms while his legs shifted his weight on each other.

“Hi,” his husky, barely audible voice sent shivers down your spine straight to your core.

“Hi,” you responded with a softness you had not heard in ages. And the guitars strum in the background, the tune carrying all the unspoken feelings in the shape of melodies in the air around the two of you.

“Can we talk?”

Bucky was almost scared of having the door being slammed in his face. But when you moved aside to let him in, he felt live rush back into his bones. He had not felt this alive since Wakanda. With sure steps inside, he was not letting this feeling go away anytime soon.

The gush of that one magical wind inside you made you discreetly smile to yourself and you could not help but wonder if it was his last night’s visit to your place that brought him back or just his curiosity with this mission. Whatever it was, you challenged yourself to not let this one get away till you had explored every little inch of his being in person. 


End file.
